Letters From War
by jandl
Summary: A series of letters between Harry and Hermione during the war. Written before the release of HBP. Some RLL implied as well. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter or Letters From War. Harry Potter belongs to Bloomsbury books and J. K. Rowling and Letters From War belongs to Mark Shultz. 

**A/N:** hey everybody! I haven't written anything in a while, and you all probably thought I was dead, but don't worry, I am very much alive. I'm sorry that I haven't written very much in a while, but the end of school was hectic, and then this summer has been exceptionally busy as well. I've had almost no time to write, and when I did have the time, I was either not in the mood or had a terrible writer's block. I have been planning this story for a while, however, and the other day had a great amount of time to think about it, and here is the finished product. I'm not sure how good it is, but I hope you like it. It's kind of a song-fic, but not really. It was more or less just inspired by a song. I hope you like it!

**Letters From War**

Hermione threw her arms around Harry, refusing to let him go.

"I have a bad feeling about this Harry! I don't want you to go! What if you never come back?"

Harry looked into his wife's eyes. As she stared back she saw many emotions gazing back to her, intense and focused in his green eyes. She saw fear for the coming battles; of the facing of his destiny. She saw courage, just as she had seen it all the times before he had faced Voldemort. She saw determination to win and save the world--Harry had always been a hero to a fault--but none of those emotions that she saw were what soothed her worried soul. It was the love she saw in his eyes. More than anything else that she saw in his eyes, she saw that emotion. It was the look he saved only for her, and she took comfort in that look. It was a look that promised that no matter what, he was coming home.

"I will come back, Hermione. I haven't fought this long just to fail. I'm going to win this fight, and we'll grow old together, and we'll see our children and our grandchildren, and their children. And we'll grow so sick of each other, that you'll wish I _had_ been killed in this battle," he ended with a slight laugh.

Hermione playfully punched him on the arm. "You know I could never get sick of you, Harry. I would have been sick of you a long time before now."

Harry enveloped her in his arms, and she rested her head against his shoulder, breathing in his unique scent.

"How am I going to survive without you for so long?" she asked him softly.

"You can write to me…and I'll write to you everyday."

"But I won't be able to see you or touch you."

"But you'll feel my presence. No matter where I am, my heart remains with you."

"You're verging on being exceptionally corny now, Harry."

"Yeah, but you're loving it."

Hermione gave a small laugh and lifted her head up to his, wanting to feel his lips upon hers one last time. Harry willingly obliged, and soon his mouth was encased protectively over hers. She wrapped her hands around his neck, and his arms went to her waist, drawing her closer to him. She slipped her tongue into his mouth for one last dance, and she sighed with pleasure as his tongue slowly caressed hers. She tried to memorize the way he tasted--like pumpkin pie and toothpaste. She had never been able to have enough of that taste, and she knew that the minute he was gone, she was going to be craving for it.

Her hands started searching for the hair at the nape of his neck, and the kiss was just starting to get heated when she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Er, are we actually going to leave Harry, or are you and Hermione just going to snog all day?"

Harry and Hermione reluctantly separated and glared at Ron. They had forgotten that he was there and he had seen their entire display of melodrama.

"Oh, shut it, Ron," said Harry. "I had to see worse with you and Luna when I came to give you a lift."

Ron's neck and ears went extremely red and Harry laughed. Ron responded with an extremely mature remark of "Bugger off, Harry!"

Harry picked up his meager bag of belongings and walked toward the door of his flat. Ron left the room, and Harry caressed Hermione's face with his hand one last time. Hermione placed her hand over his, holding his hand to her face; reveling in the feeling of his firm yet gentle hands upon her skin. Who knew if she would ever get to feel this again? All Hermione could do was repeat to herself that she would feel it again, and pray to whatever higher power was out there that he would be okay.

With one last look and one last tiny kiss, he was gone…and all Hermione could do was pray.

* * *

Days passed. Days turned to weeks, and weeks into months. But, Hermione never stopped hoping. She got letters from him every other week, and she wrote to him everyday. Sometimes, it was just the words "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you…" (Well, you get the picture, right?) But there were times when the letters were longer. Some of them offered Harry encouragement, some told about her day, and other times she told him just how much she missed him and how she was praying for him to come home.

_Dearest Harry,_

_I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. Oh, and did I mention that I miss you?_

_Life here is quiet as always, and I find myself remembering our Hogwarts days and the crowded bustle of our common room. I think of these days when my heart feels as though it is about to burst with loneliness at the thought of you so far away without me. I close my eyes and I picture us in Hogwarts again, laughing at tiny Professor Flitwick or arguing with Professor Snape, and for an instant at the very least, I can feel you with me._

_I hope that you are feeling okay. I want you to remember that no matter what happens during this war and how evil the actions you are forced to do shall make you feel, that you are a good man. You are kind and brave. You are the epitome of all that is good in the world, and no one is more deserving of happiness than you are._

_I love you. I love you. I love you…_

_Please come back to me soon._

_Eternally yours,_

_Hermione_

_

* * *

_

Harry didn't think that Hermione would ever know just how much her letters meant to him. There were times when he thought that Voldemort would be doing him a favor by killing him--he felt _that _wicked and unclean. Hermione saved him from that. Her letters reminded him that what he was doing was worth the misery he was feeling. It reminded him what he was fighting for. It reminded him of how he was loved. He made sure he told her so in almost every letter he wrote…

_My dearest Hermione,_

_I love you. I love you. I love you…_

_Do you know how much you do for me? You are my savior. Your letters fill me with constant hope and your memories fill my heart with warmth and take me away from the misery and despair I see daily. I could never repay you for the love you show me. I only hope my love for you is enough. I cannot wait to return to you and show you just how much you mean to me._

_I love you. I miss you. I love you. I miss you._

_I am waiting impatiently for the day when I can envelope you in my arms once again._

_Eternally yours,_

_Harry_

* * *

Hermione kept every letter she received from Harry and spent a majority of her spare time reading through them. Some were epic tales of battles that he had fought and told of the heroism of those that had fallen. Hermione was eternally grateful to God that neither Harry nor Ron had been any of those men as of yet. But most were just letters telling her of how much he loved her and missed her, and told of his longing to be home…with her.

The letters were continuous until one day…they just stopped. Hermione wasn't too worried at first. After all, occasionally he couldn't write if he was in the middle of a battle. But then a month passed. And then two. And still no word.

Finally, on Christmas day, Pigwidgeon flew into the living room, and Hermione almost cried with relief. On the cover of the letter, was Ron's untidy scrawl. She opened up Ron's letter and read--

_Dear Hermione,_

_I have some sad news. We faced off against Voldemort two months ago. It was the most horrible battle I've ever witnessed._

_Voldemort had muggle hostages, and this time he was ready for us. The Death Eaters ambushed us, and many of us were killed within seconds. We lost Neville and Lavender in less than a minute. They were attacked from behind and never stood a chance. _

_Harry went to find Voldemort himself, and I was left to handle Lucius and Draco. I was really into what I was doing and couldn't keep a very good eye out on Harry. You'd have been proud of me, Hermione. I got Draco with Expelliarmus and trapped him in the Full-Body Bind._

_Lucius proved to be a bit more difficult though. He blocked my charm with a Shielding spell, but I slowed down his spell with Impedimenta and Stunned him while he was working on another incantation._

_They're both in Azkaban now. As are all the other Death Eaters._

_You'd be proud of all your schoolmates, Hermione. We won. The war's over. I know you desperately wanted to be there, but Harry was right to talk you out of it. You would have been forever scarred by what you saw. Half of our Gryffindor friends are gone. Dean, Neville, Lavender…even Susan Bones from Hufflepuff. I was very thankful to know that you were out of harm's way._

_Now, you're probably wondering why I'm writing to you, instead of Harry. This is the part I am somewhat ashamed to say. After I had secured Lucius and Draco, I encountered a surprise attack from Voldemort. I was so scared, Hermione. I couldn't move. I just stood there and I waited for him to kill me. My wand was out and I did nothing…I am so ashamed, Hermione._

_Then, suddenly, Harry was there. He was there and he was fighting for me. You should have seen him, Hermione. I've never seen anything so heroic. Voldemort tried to kill me, but Harry jumped in the way. I thought that was it…that Harry was done for. Don't get me wrong, Hermione…his eyes were lifeless…his body was limp, but…his body was still moving._

_I can't tell you how it felt, Hermione. It was dumbfounding to watch him, obviously mortally dead, and yet watch him still do magic. It were as though Harry could see something the rest of us couldn't. Harry just stared at his wand and he broke it in half. I wondered to myself why it was that he did that. I mean, a normal wizard doesn't just break his wand…_

_You'll never believe this, Hermione, but it started to glow. It were as though it were full of this power I had never witnessed before. It was this beautiful blue light and it just thrust itself at Voldemort. And Harry went with it. He went into the blue light with Voldemort and when the light was gone, they had both disappeared._

_I don't know if this means anything to you, but it meant nothing to me. Just after the blue light disappeared, I passed out and didn't wake up until a week ago. According to the nurses in the hospital at which I am staying, there has been no sign of Harry or Voldemort since the last battle. When I found out no one else had written to you yet, I decided to do so myself. I will come to see you in person as soon as I am released._

_I am sorry to have to let you know what happened this way. I would rather have done it face-to-face, but I gathered that you would rather know sooner than later. I want you to always remember that if nothing else, Harry died a hero. And that's what he shall always be to me._

_Your friend,_

_Ron_

* * *

Hermione never believed for a second that Harry was dead. He had promised her he would come back, and with Harry, a promise was a promise. She also knew that if Harry had died, she would have known it. She would have felt it in her gut.

So she continued to write letters to him. However, this time, she didn't tell him the details of her day. She just wrote the letters that told him he was a good man and that she loved him. Everyday she wrote the same words to him, and Hedwig would fly out of the window with it, and when she returned the letters would be gone from her beak. Where she took the letters to, Hermione never knew, but it gave her a small ounce of comfort to know that they were going somewhere.

* * *

Weeks passed. Weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. Two years passed in fact, and yet, Hermione still wrote. Ron and Luna were constant visitors and tried to rationalize with her that if Harry were alive, he would have returned to her by now. However, Hermione--for the first time in her life-- was refusing to follow logic. Needless to say, Ron and Luna were at their wits ends with this new development.

One beautiful autumn day, Hermione was in front of her house raking up the leaves to put in a pile. If you could have seen her, you would have felt sorry for her. Everyone on the street knew she was married, and they knew that her husband had been gone for three years. They often wondered why she would look up whenever an owl flew past or why at times, she would look down at her broom while sweeping and smile. If they had been wizards or witches they would have known within an instant, but being the muggles that they were, they just wondered what was so fascinating about a broom or a bird.

Many times, they would ask her what had became of her husband. They didn't stop to think for a second that he was cheating on her. They had seen the two of them together and it was obvious that no one existed in their world except for them. Hermione would just smile and say her husband was away on extended business and it was indefinite as to when or if he could possibly return. The muggles always thought to themselves about this. What kind of job would keep you from home for three years, or made it so you might never return? All they could possibly come up with was that he must be working for the government or something of that nature. Regardless, they felt sorry for Hermione, and kept an eyeon her oftento make that sure she was okay.

On this particular autumn day on which she was raking leaves, she was paying little attention to the world around her, her mind completely on the task at hand. She thought nothing of the sound of a car slowing down or the sound of a car door opening or the sound of footfalls on the pavement. It wasn't until she heard a voice that she turned around at all.

"Hello, my dear lady. I believe I read an article about you in the Quibbler last week."

Hermione turned around to see Harry staring back at her and wanted to throw her arms around him, but played along.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, sir."

"I read last week that a siren was spotted in the area, and when I saw you I figured that it must be you. You're too beautiful for it not to be."

Hermione wasted no more time with words and threw her arms around his neck. She tried to speak to him, all the while planting kisses all over his face.

"Where did you go? What did you do?" she asked, touching his face with her hands, scarcely allowing herself to believe that he was actually here.

"When I came to, I was in Antarctica with no idea who I was or how I had gotten there. All I knew was that I was freezing and that obviously I had been in some sort of fight if the state of my clothes was anything to go by.

"Then, Hedwig came to me (I remembered who she was after a few visits), and with her she brought your letters. After a while, little things started coming back to me. When I remembered where I was from, I apparated back here, and with Hedwig's help, I retraced my steps. She led me back to you, and when I saw your eyes, I remembered everything. It were as though I had left my memories with you, and when your eyes met mine, you gave them back."

"How did you survive Voldemort's attack? And then Antarctica for so long?"

"I don't know how I survived Voldemort's attack. I was dead--I know I was dead, everything was so dark--but I was moving through the darkness--I could still see him. When I felt myself start to fall, I saw my wand above me and I grabbed it. It broke in my hands. The magic that wand contained was too powerful for me. When I threw the last of the magic the wand contained at Voldemort, it dragged me in with it. I saw this bright light, and then…I was in Antarctica.

"Surviving there was much easier. There was a group of scientists living there from the U. S., and they were going to take me back to the U. S. with them when they were finished with their research, but I came back here. They don't return to the U. S. for another couple of weeks. I left them a thank you note for their kindness before I left. I kind of felt bad forleaving before saying goodbye."

"It's so good to have you home," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around him again, and softly kissing his lips. What started out as chaste, quickly became impassioned as her lips assaulted his. With nearly three years of separation, her desire for him was at an unbearable level. Soon enough, their tongues were clashing together, wanting to taste each other, and her legs had wrapped themselves around his waste, and she was hanging on to him with her arms around his neck.

His bag crashed to the ground in the leaves and toppled over, revealing all of the letters that she had written to him in the last three years. He had never gotten rid of them. He had kept them all.

A few minutes later, she pulled herself away from him, breathing heavily, her eyes burning with desire, love, and passion.

"I missed you," she whispered, her lips just barely brushing against his with every word. "I've missed you for three years, and I don't want to miss you anymore."

Harry caught the secret meaning in her words and he was longing for that intimacy just as she was. He lowered her to the ground and picked her up, honeymoon style.

"Remember how before I left we discussed having kids and grandkids and them having grandkids?"

"Yes," she answered, a smile on her face.

"What do you say we start working on that?"

With that, he carried her into the house and shut the door, and they did just that.

* * *

Well, I hope you liked it! I think it was a little choppy, but it turned out better than I thought it would! It was inspired by a song by Mark Shultz. I hope you liked it! Please review! 


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